by Dora Hiers
He smiled. Pure Danae. Make him sweat.
“Are you wondering where I’ve been and what I’ve been up to the last couple of weeks?”
When her head bobbed under his cheek, he chuckled, angling his head to look into coffee-colored eyes, double in size. “I wasn’t avoiding you.”
Her eyebrows arched. “Seventeen days, Ryker.”
“Seventeen days of pure torture, hearing your sweet voice on the phone, planning, pushing through bureaucratic red tape—” Longing to hold her in his arms, to share his dreams with her.
“Red tape?”
“Knowing that I couldn’t see you without breaking down and spilling my guts before I was ready.”
“Ready for what?”
Ryker spread his arm wide, encompassing the orphanage property. “For this.”
“I don’t get it.” Danae cocked her head, deep ruts furrowing her brow. Then, as if a lightbulb flickered on, her mouth opened wide, and she sputtered. “You’re the anonymous donor!”
Ryker grinned, scooped the door plaque from underneath the bench and handed it to her. “Actually, we are.”
“We are?” She stared at the door sign. Her fingers grazed the cold metal. Her voice came out hushed. “Blessed by The McLane Family.”
He took a deep breath and prayed for the chance—finally—to share his heart. “Danae, I came back to Serenity Ridge broken, bruised, minus a spleen. A man in search of himself. But do you know what I found instead?”
She leaned forward, head angled, waiting for him to continue.
“God.”
He heard her intake of breath and smiled. “I didn’t need to find myself. I needed to find God. I’m tired of living life on my terms, for blaming God for my lack of family. God’s rectified that. He’s filled the hollow, empty spot in my heart. He’s here to stay.” Ryker linked his fingers through hers, then tucked them close to his heart. “But I think you already knew that.”
Danae smiled. “I suspected as much.”
“There’s more. I’ve discovered things about myself.”
“Like?”
“Like I can fly in an airplane or a chopper. I may end up a little green around the edges, but I can do it.”
Danae threw her head back and laughed. He couldn’t help but join in.
When the laughter faded, he continued. “When I came back to Serenity Ridge, my goal was to recuperate from the surgery and reevaluate my career options. Protecting people, mostly criminals, was wearing thin, but I’ve come to realize that I value my job and the people that I work with.”
She took a breath, and a shudder rippled through her body. “I’m so grateful, Ryker. If it weren’t for you and your marshal friends, I would be a splattered mess against the concrete.”
The memories threatened to unravel his speech. He closed his eyes, uttered a quick prayer. Lord, help me not to go there ever again. Erase those memories and grant us new ones please.
He opened his eyes, took a deep breath, and tightened his grip around her shoulder. “It’s a time-consuming job, Danae. Requires a lot of nights away from home.” He leaned closer, intent on the expression on her face, in her eyes, always the messenger of her heart.
Brown eyes, double in size, gazed at him, unblinking. “I could say the same for mine, Ryker. What’s important is that you’re doing what God’s called you to do, following the passion He’s placed in your heart. We need more honorable men and women like you to chase down criminals. Even if it means protecting some so that you can get the heavyweights behind bars.” She separated their linked hands and cupped his cheeks with her palms. “You’re good at your job, Ryker. That’s obvious. You just needed rest and time to figure that out.”
He couldn’t resist. He leaned in and kissed her, slow and lingering, savoring the thought that he might wake up to these kisses for the rest of his life. Reluctantly, he pulled away. This was the time to talk. Celebration would come later.
“Rest?” He joked, twirling her hair through his fingertips.
She giggled and swatted him on the arm. “I can’t help it you kept running around.”
“You were the reason I had to run around. But now I’ve got you figured out.”
A soft glow lit her face. Her lips curved in a tender, teasing smile. “You do?”
Pulling out the airline tickets, he grinned and held them out for her. “Yep.”
“What’s this?”
“Airline tickets so we can see the last Panthers game of the season.”
“Oh, yeah?” Excited, she took them. When she read the destination, her eyebrows hiked. “In Chicago?”
“Mmm-hmm. In Chicago. A trip for two.” He tugged the diamond from his pocket and slid down to one knee beside her. He wrapped her hands in his and pressed a kiss against them, smiling when he heard the soft click of a camera. “Or a trip for four, if you’re not quite ready.”
Danae gasped, and her other hand flew to her chest.
Moonlight filtered through the trees and captured the diamond’s glints. “Danae, I know we haven’t dated in the typical sense, but you hold my heart in your hands. I don’t know why it’s taken me years to figure this out, but thank God, I finally got it.
“I love you, sweetheart. I love your enthusiasm and your zest for life, that you live life to the fullest and that you find your greatest blessings in helping teenagers find their way. Will you allow me to embrace your enthusiasm, your passion and zeal, and share my life with you? Will you marry me, Danae?”
She flashed that brilliant, toe-curling smile at him and held her finger out, inviting him to slide the ring on.
“Ahhh!” She screamed and launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck, hurling him backward. His back landed on the ground with a whoosh, and his wound ripped. Again. Like he minded.
Her smile gleamed. “Yes. Ryker, I will.”
“Does this mean we’ll only need two tickets to the game?”
“We’re not taking any teenagers if that’s what you’re asking.” Blushing, her breath whispered against his lips.
“Thank you, Lord.” He lifted his head slightly and met her lips. Sweet. Butterscotchy. And all Danae.
Clapping and cheering, whistles and smooch sounds, excited teenagers swarmed them like bees. Hands yanked Danae off him, and Kyle held out a hand to help him off the ground.
In the middle of the confusion, Danae snuggled next to him and leaned into his neck to whisper. “Better get used to the noise, marshal. There will always be a lot of teenagers hanging out at our house.”
He grinned and tugged her into his embrace, where she belonged for always. “You won’t hear any complaints from me. I intend to hear the cries of a few babies, too.”
She blushed and tucked her head down. He nudged her chin up and traced her lips with his fingertips. “I aim to make all your dreams a reality. You’ll be a fantastic mommy, Danae. I love you.”
His gaze got lost in the love shining from her expressive, coffee-colored eyes. So sweet. So spunky. A woman to spend his forever with, a love that stuck through tough times.
Together, they’d create a family and surround their children with love. And he even liked the idea of adding a few teenagers to the mix. Family wasn’t just about the babies they created. A family was what blossomed from their love and compassion. They both had plenty of that to go around.
Ryker leaned down and kissed his sweetheart. Kissed her with the promise of today and passion for tomorrow. With love and commitment.
And, this time, his whole and completely healed heart.
Thank you so much for reading A Marshal’s Embrace! I’m so honored that you chose to read one of my stories. If you enjoyed it—and I hope you did!—please consider sharing your thoughts on Amazon. Positive reviews, even just a couple of sentences, help other readers discover new-to-them authors. Happy reading!
Maybe you chose to read A Marshal’s Embrace and enjoyed it so much that now you’d like to go back and read the first book in the series, A Ma
rshal’s Secret. Here’s a glimpse into Avery and Trent’s story…
A marshal and a grieving widow who blames him for her husband’s death must work together to rescue a teen. Will truth bind them together or tear them apart? The Favor..where forgiveness and second chances dwell.
1
The mystery man with haunted eyes was back.
He stood alone, farther up the hill, tucked under some towering maple trees. Far enough away that she couldn’t make out all his features, but close enough for Avery to glimpse his pain. The slight slumping of his expansive shoulders. The hands clenched at his sides. The haunted eyes that stared out into the distance when he removed his sunglasses. The lips set in a straight, hard line.
And the words that blazed from the front of his polo shirt. Deputy U.S. Marshal.
Avery Derose stacked the lawn chairs next to the cooler in the trunk, keeping him in her sight. It had taken her three years to work up her courage. This year she wouldn’t allow him to sneak away from the cemetery without talking to him. Maybe he could offer closure over Lance’s death. Even better if she could finally banish those haunted eyes from her nightmares.
But she’d wait until her in-laws left.
Avery closed the trunk of the old sedan and turned to Lance’s father. “There you go, Henry. You’re all set.”
“Thank you, Avery. We appreciate you lugging those lawn chairs for us.” Henry opened the door for his wife while she wrestled to get into the car, sweat beading on her upper lip. Henry and Stella always made a day of it when they visited their two sons. Both graves bought and earmarked for Henry and Stella a few years ago, but the parents had used them for their two sons instead.
Life just wasn’t fair sometimes.
“Take it easy going home.” Avery peered overhead at the steely gray clouds, swirling into angry puffs. “Looks like a storm is brewing.”
Henry followed her gaze, then turned to look at her. “We don’t have far to go. Will we see you next year?”
Her stomach lurched. She couldn’t let Lance’s elderly parents face this day alone. Besides, where else would she be on the anniversary of her husband’s death? “Same time, same place, Henry.” Avery smiled and leaned into the car to give Stella a peck on her moist cheek. “Bye, Stella.”
Henry wrapped his frail arms around her for a hug. “Glad to see you with a smile on your face this year.”
She slipped away from his embrace, blinking, until Henry started the engine. The giant sedan glided away, their hands flapping through the open windows. She lifted a hand in return. The other rubbed her lips as if seeking the truth. Henry was right.
Thunder rumbled across the sky, the echo vibrating against the ground. She jumped as fat raindrops assaulted her bare legs.
She glanced up the hill. The mystery man was gone.
Disappointment speared her in the chest. Next year. Definitely.
Avery hurried toward her truck and exited the memorial gardens as the rain let loose. Finally, she pulled to a stop in front of her barn and cut the engine. Two streaks of lightning pierced the sky, snapping into electrical balls a few feet away. A long crack of thunder boomed through the silence.
Whew. That was close. She sucked in a deep breath and pulled the keys from the ignition, chuckling at her shaky hands.
Poor Molly must be terrified!
She slipped her sandals off, grabbed the umbrella, and bolted for the barn, screeching to a halt at the gaping door. Alarm snaked up and down her spine.
She’d closed it that morning, she was sure of it. Hadn’t wanted the orphaned fawn roaming the property while nobody was home. Had Kalyn left it open?
“You’re worried about someone stealing a fawn!” She scolded herself, slicking rain off her face. “Not! You’re just rattled over seeing that man at the graveside again. Relax. The sooner you check on Molly, the sooner you can dry off and sit down with a cup of coffee!”
She stepped inside. Mustiness and humidity slammed her in the face, along with the comfortable smells of leather and hay. Avery flipped on the light switch, but nothing happened. Apprehension rippled through her chest but she tamped it down. The storm had clearly knocked out the power. She’d seen the fireballs. Nothing to worry about.
Water dripped from her hair and rolled down the middle of her back. Shivering, she shook her wet curls then gathered her long hair and squeezed, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.
The barn smelled normal, but something didn’t feel right. A quick scan of the cool interior revealed the usual inhabitants. The riding lawn mower. A few garden tools. Some extra straw for Molly’s stall.
Caution never kills anyone, love. Lance’s warning almost brought tears. Had he not exercised caution the day he was killed?
Avery gritted her teeth and pushed her shoulders back. Kalyn had probably checked on Molly and left the door open. End of story.
She wasn’t scared. She couldn’t be. When The Favor opened next week, a bunch of teenagers would look to her as a role model for strength and courage. Teenagers could sense cowardice. They wouldn’t see it in her. No way.
Rain pummeled the roof. The wind howled, screaming through the open door of the barn and hurling straw pieces from one wall to the other. Another deafening crack of thunder boomed outside. She jumped, a nervous giggle escaping from her throat.
So, maybe she was a little frightened. Nothing that hot coffee, warm clothes, and a lengthy baking session wouldn’t cure. A grin tugged at her lips.
She hurried toward Molly’s stall and unlatched the gate.
A streak of lightning flashed. Blinded, Avery blinked and waited for her eyes to readjust, expecting to see Molly cowering in the corner.
But the fawn snuggled peacefully next to something.
Something that moved. No. Someone!
A pencil-thin teenager scrambled to his knees, grabbing something from the straw. Drool oozed from his open mouth, and straw poked out of his black hair. With sleepy brown eyes, he crouched on one knee and brandished a pitch fork at her like it was a rifle. “Don’t co-come any cl-closer.”
Concern overpowered fear, but Avery threw her hands in the air anyway. The umbrella banged against her forearm. Ouch.
He frowned and shook his head. “I…I’m not go-going to hurt you, lady,” Squeaky Voice said, swiping at a lone tear sliding down one cheek with his shirt sleeve. “I wouldn’t.”
Relief whooshed from her lungs. She took a step closer. “I believe you.”
The umbrella zinged open, slamming into her chest, hiding her face. She rolled her eyes. Really? You’re off to a great start with your first shelter visitor.
Surprise distorted Squeaky Voice’s face until he dropped the pitchfork to the straw and doubled over, laughing. He laughed like he couldn’t imagine a tomorrow, like he couldn’t bear to look at yesterday, like he didn’t want to face today. Tears streamed down his face.
She knew that laugh. Recognized the tears.
Shock.
She needed to get him inside and assess the situation. Lowering her arms, slow and easy, she tossed the umbrella into the corner of the stall and held out a hand, scrounging up confidence. This scenario may not have been how she envisioned the opening of the shelter, but it fit. “I’m Avery Derose. Welcome to The Favor.”
He waited a few beats before standing up to his full six foot plus height. In what seemed like slow motion, his hand slid into hers. “I’m Jacob Carpocelli.”
Her stomach threatened to give up the hamburger she had devoured on the drive home. The stall started to spin. She latched on to the stall door to steady herself. Maybe she was the one who would need medical attention, not the kid.
“Carpocelli?” The whisper must’ve slipped out because he nodded, his face blanching, almost as if he didn’t want to be known by his last name. She could understand.
Jacob tugged his hand away from her wet, slimy one and stepped back. “I go by Jake.”
Jake Carpocelli. As in Tony Carpocelli’s son?
****
It wasn’t too late to turn around.
Yeah, well, maybe it wasn’t too late to turn around, but his job wouldn’t be waiting for him if he did. His boss had made that crystal clear.
Trent Burdine spotted the end of the snaking road and blew out a long breath. “Looks like we’re here. I don’t see any signs for the shelter, but this is the right address.”
Gunner Chapel glanced up from studying the case file and looked at him, sympathy oozing from his partner’s face. “Sorry about what happened with the chief, buddy.”
“Yeah.” Trent’s hands clenched the steering wheel as he maneuvered the Suburban into the clearing used for parking. He cut the engine and stared out the window.
A house nestled among the woods. Hundreds of chirping birds drowned out any noise that might otherwise have filtered through the trees, like the neighbor’s dog from two miles back that ran back and forth barking at their car as they passed. Good ol’ Nowhere, USA.
The chugging of a lawn mower sounded nearby although he couldn’t see it. Derose’s widow?
Trent’s gut churned. He reached in the center console for his antacids and popped one into his mouth with a loud sigh. “Tell me again how Carpocelli’s kid found this place.”
“Avery Derose’s brother.”
“Her brother?”
“Yeah, indirectly. It says here that”—Gunner flicked the tablet to read the notes—“Avery’s brother is the resource officer at Jake’s school.”
“He actually sent him here?” Trent frowned. What kind of family would send trouble to his sister in the form of Jake Carpocelli? Trent might go looking for her brother when he got back to Raleigh. Sit down and have a friendly little chat with him. Instruct him on the dos and don’ts of brotherhood. Do not send a kid related to the mob to your sister’s house.
“No. Her brother didn’t send him here.”
Trent rolled his eyes and opened his door, but his legs refused to cooperate. “So if Avery’s brother didn’t send Jake…”